


Apparently Dating

by DarkDayDream



Category: Recess
Genre: Alternate Universe - Future, F/F, Useless Lesbians, Vaginal Fingering
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-23
Updated: 2017-10-23
Packaged: 2019-01-21 20:22:39
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,215
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12465216
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DarkDayDream/pseuds/DarkDayDream
Summary: It had been thirteen years since Spinelli had seen any of The Ashley's.And now here she was, twenty-six years old and apparently dating a woman she had once considered her frenemy.... life had a way of being unpredictable.(A short fic I bamed out in two hours during a power-outage)





	Apparently Dating

**Author's Note:**

> I do not own Recess or any characters from it.  
> As well, I make no money from this fanfic.

As children often do during their childhood, Spinelli had skipped from one future ambition to the next. From pro wrestler to veterinarian, and even so far as to consider joining the military like Guss had. 

Her friends had all seemed to have an idea of what they wanted to do with themselves… but for Spinelli, all throughout elementary school and high school, she dreaded the days her teachers spoke of their impending futures, and the responsibilities that life would throw at them.

For where others flourished, Spinelli stumbled and fell. 

Graduating highschool with little direction and her parents expectations on her shoulders. The local community college offering a temporary escape from her indecisiveness, in the form of three years of useless college courses that amounted to little. 

But in the end, would lead her to Mr. Stevenson. 

A surly old english teacher that spent half the class going from one unrelated tangent to the next, and the other half boasting about his many grandchildren and their accomplishments.

_ Little billy just got his driver's license, and his sister sarah is starting medical school _ … it was agonizing to listen to. Every. Single. Class. And with how many grandchildren he seemed to have, the topic was never ending.

Mark, Sarah, Corey, Riley, Mary-Ann…. And so on. People she had never met, but come to dislike simply from how highly their grandfather talked of them… until by accident, Spinelli met one of the praised grandchildren, late one school evening.

Twenty-four year old Carter. With his shaved head, tattooed arms, and slouched posture. 

And the owner of one of the most beautiful motorcycles she had ever seen. With its custom paint job and glistening chrome parts. How couldn't she fall in love with such a wonderful piece of art? It was breathtaking, and beautiful… and Carter had built it from scratch. 

_ He’s a mechanic! _ Mr. Stevenson had proudly proclaimed, his arm slung over Carter's shoulder. A bashful little smile playing across the young man's lips as his grandfather absolutely gushed with pride, and went into one of his typical rambling sessions. 

Long-windedly informing Spinelli of the years Carter had spent in trade school, and the beautiful vehicles he had worked on. It was… a riveting conversation, truthfully. Mr. Stevenson all smiles and laughter as Spinelli exchanged phone numbers with Carter and promised to take a look at his workshop when she wasn't busy.

A promise that Spinelli quickly fulfilled. Letting the young mechanic drag her around his drafty workshop, showing off his many half-complete projects with childish excitement. 

His love for his work practical tangible, and his enthusiasm infectious. 

It took only four days for Spinelli to look up trade schools in her area, and another two weeks to sign up for the classes Carter had suggested. The programs short waitlist giving Spinelli just enough time to finish up her college classes. Her parents surprised but supportive of the abrupt change, simply happy to see her working towards an actual goal.

And that was exactly what Spinelli did, throwing herself into the coursework and earning her teachers praise. For while Spinelli might have been smart, she had languished in the traditional school system. Her average marks a strong C+ at best, with difficulty around every corner. 

But trade school was completely different, with most of the class time spent in the school auto shop. Shoulder deep in car engines, and covered head to toe in grease and oil. 

It was exhilarating, and Spinelli loved every moment of it. Finishing one level of training, and then immediately jumping into the next. Learning how to weld, solder, and take a car apart to the very last bolt. 

And then reassemble it. 

For four years, trade school was her life. She practically lived in the auto shop, and had even slept in the parking lot on more than one occasion. Too tired to attempt the long drive home, and still small enough to comfortably sleep in the backseat of her car without much difficulty. 

In those four years, Carter had become a good friend. And perhaps even her best friend, giving her a job in his little shop once her thirst for school had been filled. The pay satisfying and the hours bearable, most of the shop's customers falling somewhere between old and rich. 

But if there was one thing Spinelli knew for certain about herself, it was her dislike for being anyone's bitch. And while Carter was a wonderful boss, Spinelli moved on after exactly a year of working for him. 

And began to work for herself. 

Purchasing a little workshop of her own on the posh side of town. A two story building with a workshop on the ground floor, and a comfortable little apartment right above it. The rent unbelievably high, but the location to die for.

The view from her apartment wasn't that bad either, her bedroom window overlooking the opposite side of the street. A fancy tattoo parlor here, a private gym there, a florist just a bit to the right. 

And two absolutely  _ massive _ twenty-plus story law firms. One on each side of her tiny shop, dauntingly tall and disarmingly shiny. An endless flow of suit wearing men and women coming and going from the buildings at all hours of the day, with rich tastes and thick wallets. 

It took less than a week for her little shop to gain attention among the wealthy lawyers and their paralegal’s, the window display of her storefront both chic and boastful. One gorgeous hog after another displayed temptingly in the window, custom pieces that glistened and shone under the bright display lights. Her childhood love of art brought to life upon the bodies of the bikes she slaved over.

From cliche flames and skulls, to depictions of nature and even the occasional likeness of dead celebrities. Elvis’s face plastered darkly across the body of a beautiful old Harley Davidson, with his tilted smile and soulful eyes. 

After all, who could disagree with a good Elvis from time to time?

Quickly, Spinelli had more work than she knew what to do with. Hiring herself two shop assistants, and making enough money to be picky when it came to which client she chose to work with. The waitlist of wanting clients easily booking her solid for the next two year, with the occasional spot left open just incase something of interest happened to come her way.

And what came her way, was an clique she had not seen since her elementary school days. The Ashleys, with their designer bags, chic pantsuits, and heels that could be used as weapons if the need arose. 

Of course the Quartet would become Lawyers… go figure. 

Still, whereas Spinelli and her gang had ended up at the same high school, The Ashleys had moved on to better pastures. Joining a high school for the elite and wealthy, and vanishing from Spinelli’s everyday life in the blink of an eye. Leaving a hole behind that never quite filled in, their childish banter having been both a bother… and a welcome. 

They had been girls she gladly thought of as her Frenemies. A varying mixture of expressions swimming across their faces as Spinelli reintroduced herself, head held high and lips pulled into a crooked little grin. 

She must have been quite an unexpected sight to see. It had been.. at least thirteen years since she had last seen any of them, give or take a bit. And at twenty-six, she was no longer the tiny tomboy they had butted heads with. Her hair cropped into a stylish bob, and her thick-heeled boots discarded in favor of some comfortable converse. Arms kept bare to display the intricate inkwork that covered a good deal of her upper body, and jeans nearly painted on with how formfitting they were. She wasn't exactly the most feminine, but at least she didn't hide away in the baggy clothes of her childhood anymore…. And okay, yah. She had partially lied there...

She was still as tiny as ever. 

Standing at a measly 5’3, with the Quartet towering over her. Long legged and statuesque. Polite as they reacquainted themselves with the Lost Ashley of their past, Oohing and awwing over the handful of custom motorcycles displayed about her spacious shop, each boasting a piece of art she had poured her time into. 

Spinelli had expected little from the impromptu reunion, her world vastly different from the wealthy reality of The Ashley’s. Their mere presence feeling… expensive. Like Spinelli might be sent a bill, just for taking up their time with pleasantries and childhood rememberings. 

So understandably, she was confused upon finding herself face to face with a solitary Ashley the following day. The head bitch of the group, Ashley Armbruster. Her smile gentle and voice… confusing to Spinelli. Almost flirtatious. 

Laughing easily and prettily at the right moments. Her hand brushing against Spinelli’s arm, tracing the inkwork with open curiosity. Biting at her lip. 

_ Well fuck me…  _ Spinelli had flusteredly thought at the time, her cheeks hot and face tinted pink. Easily succumbing to the blonde’s charm. Handing over her phone number and roping herself into a coffee date with her childhood frenemy. Her mind a frazzled mess for hours following Ashley’s departure, her assistants eyeing her worriedly as she floated aimlessly about the shop. 

What was supposed to be a single coffee date, turned into a weekly event. The leggy blonde quick to become a regular sight to see in Spinelli’s shop, perched on the corner of her desk or quietly looming over Spinelli’s shoulder as she worked. 

The other Ashley’s occasionally accompanying her. 

Though more often than not, Ashley would arrive alone and stick around for a couple hours. Tempting Spinelli out to dinner once seven o'clock had rolled around, and the last idling customer had been sent on their way… It did not take long for their once a week coffee date, to turn into an almost daily encounter. 

And without even realizing it at the time, Spinelli was falling. And she was falling hard… but who could blame her, when it came to a woman like Ashley?

A successful twenty-six year old lawyer with an upbringing that promised a fast-pass to success, her family's name and wealth earning her a high social standing among her peers.

The fact that she was drop dead gorgeous didn't hurt either. 

Tall, blonde, and thin. With legs for days, and a wardrobe that must have cost a small fortune to accumulate. Pant suits, backless blouses, slitted skirts… and heels that made her ass look fucking fantastic. 

No one could blame Spinelli for being a weak gay mess… and fucking Ashley against a wall, during the blonde’s first visit to Spinelli’s little second floor apartment. Her name upon the young lawyers lips, and her fingers buried knuckle deep inside of her. 

Making her squirm and moan as she came again.. and again… and again. 

Begging for more, while grinding herself down against the hard calluses of Spinelli’s fingertips. Her skirt rucked up around her hips, and her lipstick smeared with the press of their mouths. Clashing with teeth and tongue. 

Ashley greedily taking what she wanted, which happened to be Spinelli’s talented fingers. Fingers that stroked at her walls and thumbed at her clit, getting her off effortlessly and leaving her quivering. Her arms slung around Spinelli’s neck and face hidden in the crook of her throat. 

And suddenly, sex was added to the equation. An everyday thing that they never discussed, despite how often it happened. Mixed in with the late night dinner dates, and early morning coffee runs

And it was somewhere amongst those dinner dates, random hangouts, and sex… that Spinelli realized she was apparently dating Ashley, and no one had thought it important to inform her of that fact. 

Ashley’s clothes taking up space in her bedroom closet, and her pink toothbrush propped up beside Spinelli’s in the bathroom. 

Spinelli had even given her an emergency key to the shop ‘Just incase’.... 

How the fuck did she not see this?  


“Hey Ash? Are… we’re dating, right?” Spinelli voiced her concern late one night, disturbing the comfortable post-coital lull they had fallen into. Breath still rapid and skin slick with sweat, Ashley’s head nestled into the dip of her collarbone. The blonde already half asleep, her eyes heavy and gaze unfocused.

“Mhms.” Ashley hummed in confirmation, arms tightening around Spinelli’s waist and nose brushing against her throat. Yawning loud and open mouthed. Snuggling into the mechanic’s side with exhaustion heavily weighing her down, fading right before Spinelli’s 

“... alright. Get some sleep, kay babe?”

“Mmm… Kay.” It was weird… the idea of being pinned down with a relationship had never been an appealing notion to Spinelli. But as she looked down at the Blonde clinging to her side, there was little she could do but smile and brush the hair from Ashleys face. Her body sore and strained, aching from the soft hands that had brought her to orgasm.

Those soft hands that had gripped at her hips, thighs, and ass…  but had also slipped into her own hand as they walked down the street. Fingers linked and shoulder bumping together. Laughing at the memories of their beloved recess hours..

This… this was okay.


End file.
